


Ruin

by DireDigression



Series: Becoming Sole [4]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Gen, Minor Character Death, sole has no chill left
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:27:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26522920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DireDigression/pseuds/DireDigression
Summary: The thrilling, problematic conclusion of Sole as the Silver Shroud.  Also, lots of little insights into pre-War Sole.
Series: Becoming Sole [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928578
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Ruin

**Author's Note:**

> For the Fallout February prompt: Ruin
> 
> WARNING:  
> Minor character death. Multiple deaths, but no gore.

Black coat whipping at her ankles, Sole steps through the elevator doors.

"Shroud! I want to talk to you!" shouts a rough voice from inside.

The scene that meets her is bleak. A warehouse-like basement spreads before her, raiders posted around the edges. At the far side, a staircase leads up to what might be an old loading dock, where another raider flanks a large ghoul in combat armor. The ghoul holds a pistol to the head of the smaller ghoul kneeling in front of him: Kent.

"Hold, assholes," the large ghoul snarls at the surrounding raiders. "Anyone turns heel, and I'm coming for you and your family. And you, Shroud, you step any closer and we get to see what's inside Kent's head." He glares down at Sole, and at Hancock prowling in her wake. "Well look at that. The mayor himself graces me with his presence. Babysitting your pet superhero, Hancock? Looks like it's my lucky day, I get both of you."

"Oh no, pal," spits Hancock. "We want _you_."

Sinjin grins savagely. He lives up to expectations, at least. Sole is sufficiently impressed. But the intimidating scene doesn't faze her righteous fury.

"You shield yourself behind an innocent. You are craven, Sinjin. And you shall fall before me." She channels the Silver Shroud of her childhood, terrifying, invincible, omnipotent. With the heavily-modded Silver Submachine Gun in her hands, she nearly feels overcome by the euphoric wave of power.

Sinjin doesn't appear affected.

"Talk's cheap, asshole. Some of these losers think you're some sort of legend. Like you walked straight out of a comic book. But you and I know, you're human. And you're weak. You came here, and for what? Your little sidekick?"

Kent whimpers. Sole draws herself tall, lifting her chin. "I have cut a path through all your thugs. Who can truly say I'm not the Shroud?"

Sinjin just laughs, cold. "You think you're the first that's tried that?"

She feels Hancock shifting nervously behind her. This isn't going at all like she'd anticipated. The wave of power turns icy in her veins. But she can't show weakness here. All eyes are on her. The Shroud never failed, not one time, not against the worst of the worst. And so what if others tried before? _She_ is the strongest fighter in the Commonwealth. _She_ killed Kellogg. _She_ , as far as her enemies should be concerned, _is_ the Silver Shroud. She can't lose to this pompous raider. She shifts the gun towards her shoulder.

"Ah-ah-ah, I wouldn't do that if I were you," says Sinjin. "If you try anything, I shoot the sidekick. If you succeed in anything, my associates here shoot the sidekick." The bodyguard steps forward, shouldering her rifle to drive the point home.

As long as Sinjin holds that pistol to Kent's head, he holds all the power. Sole drops the submachine gun back to her waist, helpless.

"Look at what the Shroud has become," the raider sneers. "Played like a chump, just because you care about a weakling like this. Here's a lesson for ya, free of charge. The thing about cops and robbers? The robbers always win. You see, the good guy has too many things he cares about. Family. Friends. Little school kids. That makes him weak. The bad guy? He's the strong one. He doesn't give a damn about anyone or anything. There's nothing he wouldn't do to win."

Maybe he's right. She is weak. She's just a housewife. She's supposed to be making dinner, not making a fool of herself play-acting some stupid superhero. She's supposed to be back home, in a nice dress, taking care of her husband and son, like the other women she grew up with. She was never good at that. Even when she finally married Nate, was finally able to call his son her own, finally no longer the pitiable lonely girl approaching spinsterhood, even then she could never do it right. Took Nate for granted, begging him to let her keep her job and her softball. Resenting him because he offered her a chance to have the dream and it still wasn't good enough for her.

But then again, she's _not_ supposed to be home making dinner, is she? Because they aren't there. Because Nate is dead and she's lost his son to this hellscape. What she's supposed to be, really, is dead.

"So what's going to happen is this," Sinjin growls. "I was considering letting your little friend here go if you turned yourself over, but I've decided that's too good for you. So first I'm going to kill Kent. Then we're going to shoot the hell out of you and the mayor there. Nothing's going to be left but paste." His voice crescendos to a hoarse shout as rage seems to catch his body like wildfire. "Then I'm going to Goodneighbor and I'm gonna kill every last worthless bastard there. And I'll burn the whole thing down! _No one_ screws with Sinjin!"

_And no matter what I do, he kills Kent anyway._

She's not supposed to be alive, but she is. She wasn't supposed to play softball, but that gave her the trusty swatter. She wasn't supposed to want a job, or to not want children, or to play-act the Silver Shroud. But she's the one alive now, not them, and she's the most dangerous force in the Commonwealth, and she's the one wielding a submachine gun.

This unhinged thug doesn't get to strong-arm her into meekly accepting death. She realizes how to take her power back.

She hasn't taken any jet, but time still seems to slow as she shoulders the Silver Submachine Gun. She braces herself, takes the radiation-scarred face in her sights, and squeezes the trigger. A sharp staccato-crack echoes through the room.

Kent crumples to the ground at Sinjin's feet.

"I don't negotiate with mad men," she says to the suddenly silent room.

Time continues its jet-like stretch as the witnesses try to come to terms with what just happened. Hancock seems frozen in shock behind her. Sinjin has begun to babble softly. Sole drives a small knot of unease out of her mind.

"Now that I have your attention, what's going to happen is _this_. Everyone that points a gun at me dies. Every. Last. One."

Then the spell is broken as the raiders realize they need to panic. "Jesus, she's crazier than Sinjin," one gasps, backing away. Another drops her gun, throwing her hands into the air and pleading, "Just d-don't kill me, please!"

Sinjin attempts to regain his composure. "You're...You're going down...Kill her, you assholes!"

But the raiders clear a path as she strides towards him. Up the stairs. Stepping over Kent's prone shape. Sinjin begins shooting wildly, but the bullets that do land make little impact through the costume's armor.

Sole presses the muzzle of her gun against Sinjin's forehead. His black eyes are blown wide. He stares at her, mouth agape.

"Face my rightful vengeance."

* * *

That night, Sole sits at the Third Rail bar, still garbed in the Shroud's attire. The atmosphere in the old subway station is fragile and hushed. Magnolia is absent from her usual stage. Even Charlie seems to regard her with something like distaste or worse. The euphoria has receded, leaving behind a feeling of the direction-less floating of driftwood.

_I did what I had to do. Sinjin killed so many people. He was going to burn Goodneighbor to the ground! I saved their lives._

She stares down into the whiskey in her glass, as though seeking validation in the depths. Hancock had raged at her as they left the old hospital, but she hadn't responded and he'd eventually run out of steam, stalking silently after her on their return. Then outside the State House he'd told her in no uncertain terms to get out of his sight.

 _Probably not forever._ Well, if he can't stomach what it takes to keep his town safe, then he's lucky she's here to do the dirty work for him.

The whiskey is nonresponsive. She downs it and walks out.

**Author's Note:**

> For the record, this is NOT CANON* for Becoming Sole, just an idea I had to get out.
> 
> *(not necessarily anyway  
> I'm still deciding  
> don't hurt me)


End file.
